A Christian at Hogwarts
by Keytasker
Summary: David Raymond has been a devout evangelical Christian his entire life, but after Albus Dumbledore delivers his invitation to Hogwarts, he has to wrestle with questions about the compatibility of his faith with the wizarding world.
1. Chapter 1

AN: At the outset, I want to make clear that this story isn't for everyone. If you have no use for religion whatsoever, or have a very strong aversion to evangelical Christianity, you're probably better off not reading it. I want this story to be a fairly serious and detailed examination of what it would be like if an evangelical attended Hogwarts, so it was necessary that the protagonist be quite devout in his faith, but I understand that not everyone can stand that sort of character. I chose to set the story in the interregnum between the fall of Voldemort in 1981 and the arrival of Harry in 1991 because it gave me a lot of freedom to plot, and allowed me to come up with some great DADA teachers!

* * *

Sunday, July 21, 1985 – London

"There shall not be found among you anyone" rang out the voice of the pastor solemnly, "who makes his son or his daughter pass through the fire, one who uses divination, one who practices witchcraft, or one who interprets omens, or a sorcerer, or one who casts a spell, or a medium, or a spiritist, or one who calls up the dead. For whoever does these things is detestable to the LORD. Deuteronomy 18:10-12."

"Like all passages of the Bible," he continued, "God inspired this instruction for a reason. Like all scripture, it is profitable for teaching, reproof, and correction. At the time Moses recorded this command, many nations of the era did indeed routinely practice everything forbidden here. Naturally, we don't see as much of that sort of thing today, but a demonic realm is still out there and still must be resisted by the power of Jesus. Anyone who desires to master this counterfeit spiritual realm will only end up finding themselves mastered, and held forever captive unless they turn to Christ, who alone has authority over all demons."

Down in the pews, 11 year old David Raymond's mind had long since started to wander. He enjoyed going to church every week, but Reverend Baxter's sermons were usually a bit dense for him. His parents, Byron and Michelle, still sat in rapt attention as he continued his discourse for the next 15 or so minutes, which ended, as always, with the pastor segueing into a mini-summary of Gospel for the benefit of any visiting unbelievers.

Byron, who had been a rugby star in his college days, was austere, intimidating, and starting to bald a bit. He now worked at a missionary society which dispatched dozens of fellow Christians around the globe annually. Byron's kindhearted and demure wife Michelle looked very youthful, and was blessed with jet black hair and indigo colored eyes.

While the Raymond's two year old daughter Karissa took after her mother in appearance, their son David, in contrast, didn't look especially like either. He had plain brown hair, and, apart from being a bit shrimpy compared to most other boys his age, was fairly nondescript. David had insatiable curiosity, but was also cautious and apprehensive, though he often had bursts of impulsiveness just when one least expected. For his entire life he had pretty consistently listened to and obeyed his parents, who had taken a lot of pains to keep his life distinctly insular thus far.

After the service ended, the Raymonds picked up Karissa from the nursery and drove home. As they approached their well kept suburban house, they were surprised to see a very old man in a robe with a long white beard, waving to them jovially from their front yard. Byron pulled in the driveway and suspiciously rolled down his car window.

"Is there something I can do for you sir?" he asked the mysterious robed stranger.

"Is that David Joshua Raymond?" inquired the visitor, gazing happily toward a puzzled David in the back seat.

"Why do you ask?" Byron replied testily

"Turned 11 last October didn't he? And heading off to secondary this September no doubt! I'm sure David is-"

"Excuse me, just who are you and what do you want?" snapped Byron, his patience with this oddball rapidly wearing thin.

"Albus Dumbledore," the old man said proudly, "Headmaster of Hogwarts, one of Britain's finest educational institutions."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you sir, but David is already enrolled in Veritas Christian School, so this 'hog' school of yours-"

"I dare say Hogwarts might well be a much better fit for the peculiar talents which David possesses."

"Sir," said Byron sternly, "I am not interested. Now please get off my property and leave my family alone!" And with that, he, David, and Michelle, carrying Karissa, all quickly left the car to go inside. After locking the front door, they walked into the living room….

…where they found Dumbledore once again!

"Sorry to drop in, but-"

"GET THE HECK OUT OF OUR HOUSE!" Byron screamed. Michelle, completely spooked, ran upstairs, clutching Karissa close, while David hid behind his father, shocked but still curious.

"Mr. Raymond," the eccentric old man continued, "have you ever noticed that David often-"

"YOU'LL LEAVE MY SON ALONE AND GET OUT OF HERE NOW!"

"I only ask that-"

"I'M CALLING THE POLICE!" Byron thundered, grabbing the nearest phone and dialing 999. But the phone wasn't working.

"Sorry to put you on hold," joked Dumbledore, "but if I might get a few words in, I think your worries might be cleared up."

It would have taken more than a few words for Byron Raymond's worries to be cleared up at that moment though. "David, upstairs now!" David obediently complied with his father's command…

…right up until the stairway vanished just as he was about to ascend.

"Dad! The stairs just disappeared!"

Suddenly, it all came together - the robe, the apparent teleportation, the dead phone, the vanishing stairs… he was a wizard! Thank God Reverend Baxter had just warned them only this morning!

"You have no power over me," said Byron resolutely, "for I rest secure in the power of Jesus Christ."

"Well, let me assure you Mr. Raymond, I'm not here to assert any power over you," smiled Dumbledore.

"Well, you must excuse my incredulity, but I have trouble believing that, and if you think we'll voluntarily desire anything your demonic realm has to offer, then you're sadly mistaken on that count as well."

Dumbledore sighed – it was one of _those _families. Thankfully for him, they were mercifully rare; it had been a full decade since he had been denounced as demonic while meeting a new first year.

"Perhaps this news would better be handled through letter," ventured Dumbledore, and with that, he suddenly disappeared with a crack. David ran back into the living room a few seconds later with the news that the stairway had reappeared. The Raymond's were still trying to come to grips with what had just happened when a letter mysteriously dropped down their chimney.

"What did the letter say?" Michelle fearfully asked a few minutes later.

"It claimed that David was a wizard, and needed to head off to this boarding school where he would learn magic for the next seven years. Said the school teaches good magic, and is not demonic in the least, and that magical ability is just something that certain people are naturally born with. It's signed by Albus Dumbledore, who I presume is the sorcerer we just saw."

"What do we do if that evil Dumbledore man comes back and tries to take David away there?"

"Relying upon Christ is all we can do Michelle. He has authority, remember? He's sovereign over this Dumbledore demon." Michelle nodded gravely in agreement

* * *

The very next day, the Raymonds walked down to breakfast to once again find Dumbledore waiting in their living room. Like yesterday, Michelle promptly disappeared with Karissa, but Byron was ready and resolute.

"The answer is no, Dumbledore! The Bible tells us all we need to know about your realm."

"I understand your feelings. I just wonder if David might speak for himself Mr. Raymond. David, do you ever remember doing anything out of the ordinary, or, shall we perhaps say, _magical_, in your life?"

"Of course he hasn't!" David's father volunteered, "he's a good Christian boy." But David hesitated. In truth, he couldn't deny that he had been at the center of many unusual occurrences, like the time that he got a hideous haircut, but had all his cut hair grow back overnight. His parents had always said it was just God's miraculous way of telling them not to give him a haircut like that again. But there was also the time about four years ago when he had been playing in a field nearby, and came across a snake. After recovering from the shock, he had joked aloud, "you sure frightened me there little friend." The snake had looked up at him, and softly but distinctly hissed "Sssssorry, didn't mean it." He never told his parents about the incident, and privately concluded that it was just another example of God's miracles – after all, in the Bible Adam and Eve were able to talk with a snake in Genesis.

"The magical stuff that happens in my life is God's work!" said David at last.

"Indeed," remarked Dumbledore, who at last had an opening he'd been waiting for, "so anything supernatural or magical that you do is really just God working through you, correct?" David nodded. Byron listened very carefully – he wasn't sure where Dumbledore was going but it was obviously some ingenious rhetorical gambit.

"God gives all of His sons and daughters special talents," Dumbledore continued, "and anything good we do with those talents isn't us so much as it's God working through us – do you follow? Good, good. Now if you look through the Bible you'll find plenty of times where God gives His followers gifts that admittedly look quite magical. In Exodus, Moses uses his staff like a wand to perform all sorts of miracles. In Acts, Peter, the head of the early church, is given the power of healing. So we see plenty of magical people in the Bible, who were given their special talents by God. You, David, have been given special magical talent by God in accordance with His will. At Hogwarts, you will learn how to use this talent, and after you graduate you can use your newly developed gifts to whatever purpose God has called you to." _There's a good chance they'll buy that,_ Dumbledore thought hopefully.

David's mind raced – Dumbledore was making a lot of sense. But Byron wasn't fooled in the least by Dumbledore's act. "Very clever sir, but there's still a few gaping holes in your story. In the Bible everyone is upfront that God has given them special power, but at this Hogwarts school of yours, people are magical because of genetics – it's all purely evolutionary and there's no acknowledgment of God. You can't have Godly miracles without proper attribution – and that lack of attribution renders it ungodly. And second, the miracles in the Bible don't involve casting spells, or speaking with the dead or the like – your school's magic is precisely the unbiblical kind condemned in Deuteronomy."

Dumbledore sat silently for a few seconds. _Maybe Hogwarts might have to just let this one child go_. But he still had a few cards left to play. "If Hogwarts has been conducting their magic without proper attribution, then perhaps David can be the evangelist who can enlighten the school to do so. Think about it."

David did start thinking about it, but as usual his father would have none of Dumbledore's careful diplomacy. "That's not going to work Dumbledore," Byron began, but before he could launch into his planned rejoinder, the headmaster, foreseeing that this conversation could no longer be profitable, abruptly ended it.

"Very well then, I'll see you once more next week, and if you still refuse I will trouble you no more." And with that, he was gone.

"He's a slick fellow all right – really knows how to play someone."

"But Dad, he's right! If I went to this wizard school, I could tell everyone there the Good News about Jesus Christ! They've probably never heard it before, and I could save them, and stop a whole bunch of the bad witchcraft stuff!"

"David, don't his clever arguments deceive you. I love you and think the world of you, but you're only 11. You were drifting off during Reverend Baxter's sermon yesterday – don't worry, I know it was kind of boring for someone your age – but you see, you're just not old and mature enough in your faith to handle something like this. If you were 20, well, then it might be interesting to go to this Hogwarts - if it even actually exists that is - and try to evangelize. But they're not bringing you there to evangelize. You'll be there to learn the godless magic they want to teach you. Evangelism was just a desperate hook Dumbledore threw out to try to rope you in."

"But if we don't reach these people who will?"

"God, in his own time, will raise up a missionary."

"But loads of people who God chose to do important stuff didn't think they were qualified when God called them, and thought God should have picked someone else. You're always telling me about people who come to you at work who say they feel unqualified for missionary work but called by God nonetheless."

"You're playing right into some scheme he's set up!"

"But if I keep trusting in Christ, his scheme can't hurt me, can it?"

"We'll discuss this later David" Byron finished firmly, and with that the conversation ended.

* * *

Late that evening, there was a knock at the door. A very young woman with an infectious smile and long blonde hair was standing outside.

"Mr. Raymond?" she asked softly as David's father opened the door, "my name is Natalie Peterson, and I'm a fellow sister in Christ." She paused, and nervously continued, "Dumbledore told me about you and David, and asked me to talk to you."

"Dumbledore appeared to you?"

"I've known Dumbledore for 10 years," she replied, bracing herself for his shock. "I attended Hogwarts, class of '82. He dropped by today and told me about his discussions with you, and I agreed with him that it would be best if I gave you an overview of Hogwarts and the wizarding world as a fellow believer."

Naturally, Byron wasn't ready to immediately accept Natalie's claim to be a Christian; he grilled her for several minutes about her faith before finally, and grudgingly, believing her. After inviting her in, Natalie told Byron that he needed to be open to what she had to say. Byron agreed, called David in to listen, and Natalie began.

"Ten years ago, almost to the day, Dumbledore showed up and told me I was a witch. My family, much like yours, immediately thought he was some Satanic demon trying to shipwreck my soul, and attempted to rebuke him in the name of Jesus. But the truth is – and you must believe me – he really isn't demonic. As he says, their magic really is just something you inherit genetically, like green eyes or red hair. In my case neither of my parents was magical, but some of my ancestors were, and their magical abilities simply skipped a few generations.

"The people in the wizarding world have no direct connection with Satan, and only a small minority could even be described as neo-pagan. The vast majority of them are actually nominal Anglicans or Catholics. In short, going to Hogwarts isn't going to endanger David's soul in any way. The wizarding world is no more demon-possessed then the regular world I would venture to say. Most of the magic you learn at Hogwarts is incredibly benign and even mundane."

She stopped abruptly, realizing she wasn't being entirely on the level with them. What about Voldemort and his Death Eaters? _They_ certainly were evil and demonic in the Biblical sense, and would probably raise an enormous red flag if she told Mr. Raymond about them. But Voldemort's forces had been vanquished in October of her final year, and the wizarding world had been pretty much tranquil since then. Bringing up the dark arts and those who used them would just be a distraction, since they were all but gone now. No need to mention a long vanquished threat. She began again

"I went to Hogwarts because I thought it would be a great witnessing opportunity. I had dreams of converting the entire school to evangelical Christianity, and Dumbledore encouraged these ideas as a ploy to get me to come. Despite my fervor though, no one accepted Christ during my seven years there. Most of the faculty and students respected my beliefs, but they never really saw me as anything more than an oddball – and the school has plenty of oddballs. I still keep in contact with many of my friends, and I still try to witness when I can, because you never know when God will use you."

Byron tried to take all of this in. He trusted Natalie as a Christian, but what she was saying seemed so impossible. How could they be casting spells and chatting with ghosts and not be captive to some evil spiritual realm? For that matter, how could _she_ have done those things and still retain a clear conscience? "Now Natalie," he ventured cautiously, "I'm sure you know about those passages in Leviticus and Deuteronomy which forbid all the witchcraft stuff they do at Hogwarts. So how did you rationalize – well, not _rationalize_ – but, you know…"

"Yes, I know what you mean," Natalie replied, sighing. It was after all the critical question, even it required a lot of painful introspection to answer. "To tell you the truth, even three years after graduation, I still feel very uncomfortable about it; I haven't used magic since the day classes ended, and I don't plan to. Throughout the seven years of school, I just always tried to remember that I was God's beloved daughter, and promised myself that I would stop doing their magic if it ever felt too dangerous for my soul – and it never did. I knew I was breaking the letter of the law in Deuteronomy, but I hoped that if my heart was in the right place then it wouldn't matter. I think it's like the dietary restrictions in Leviticus which are eventually declared irrelevant in the New Testament. Despite what the Law of Moses says, it doesn't matter what you eat so long as you continually honor God in your heart.

"Yes, I used a magic wand and cast spells, but it was a small price to be around all these lost witches and wizards, and possibly show them Christ and see them saved. So long as my own faith never wavered, I didn't believe God wouldn't fault me for doing magic. Of course, in all seven years I never led anyone to Christ, and to this day I still wonder if I was right to take part in doing the magic required for the classes. I think it's a matter for the individual conscience. If you can do the magic and still feel pure, by all means do so, but if you'll feel you've sinned and displeased God, then don't."

"So… in the final analysis," Byron asked, "do you think David should go to Hogwarts?"

"That's for him to decide," replied Natalie, "I still believe God had me go to Hogwarts for a reason, although I'm still not sure what that reason was," she added somewhat mournfully. "But if David believes God is calling him to Hogwarts, and believes he can have a clear conscience while performing their magic, then yes, he should go. Pray about it David. Ask God for guidance. That's all I can tell you."

Byron and David thanked Natalie, and said goodbye. They had a lot of thinking to do.

Next Monday, right on cue, Dumbledore was waiting in the living room when the Raymonds came down for breakfast. "David Raymond, have you made a decision?"

"I have," said David, trying earnestly to sound strong and mature. "I'm going to Hogwarts."

"Excellent!" replied Dumbledore, as an enormous smile spread across his face. "Welcome David!"

(to be continued)


	2. Chapter 2

It was nearing midnight, but David remained awake in his room, devouring the books Natalie had given him that afternoon. She had kept all her old schoolbooks, along with most of the supplies he would need for the year at Hogwarts, and was happy to find someone who could use them. All that was missing were robes and the all-important magic wand. Tomorrow morning, she would accompany him to Diagon Alley for his trip to Malkin's and Ollivander's.

David glanced at his clock for the first time in hours, and did a double take as 11:59 turned to 12:00. He hadn't planned on staying up this late, but _these books!_ They were frightening because so much of it contradicted what he had learned all his life in church, but that's what made them so fascinating at the same time! Someday, he would have to sort out and process all that he'd read – how witches who were burned in medieval times would use flame-freezing charms, human-level intelligence in the possession of goblins, centaurs, and elves, spells that could eliminate all memories… there was so much disturbing material which David was at a loss to account for. Natalie hadn't mentioned any of this stuff – she'd made the wizarding world sound so innocuous.

He was nearly finished skimming through Bagshot's _A History of Magic_. Turning to the final chapter, "The Modern Era: 1945-present" David swore he'd finally go to bed after reading it. With paragraphs about trivialities like the invention of the self-stirring cauldron, it seemed quite bland compared to the rest of the book. Then, tucked on the final two pages, David came across the most stunning bombshell yet.

"Today, the wizarding world faces a terrifying and substantial threat in the person of Tom Riddle (b. 1926), better known by his chosen name of Lord Voldemort, and his army of dark followers known as Death Eaters. Widely considered the most dangerous dark wizard of the millennium, Riddle's indiscriminate terrorism against both the wizarding and muggle worlds has, at present, no immediate end in sight."

And on it went from there: torture to the point of insanity, imperceptible mind and body control, a death count of over 400 (including muggles), and so much more – and the textbook simply ended on this bleak note! David snapped the book shut, breathing heavily and feeling slightly disoriented. Tomorrow morning, he'd have to tell Natalie that he was backing out of Hogwarts. His Dad had been right all along, this world was way too scary and demonic for him. And now he'd have to live with the knowledge that regardless, this Voldemort might still kill him.

"Oh God, protect me! Jesus protect me! Keep me safe Lord! I know You have full power and authority over Voldemort" prayed David, who was not entirely sure that he really believed the words he was saying. "Amen" he finished, not feeling any less frightened. Had he not been so tired from staying up past midnight, it might have been several hours before his paranoid jitters finally gave way to sleep.

A knock on his door nine hours later woke him up after a slew of nightmares.

"Rise and shine David," said his father, "Natalie Peterson's here to take you to that diagonal place."

"Tell her I'm not going to Hogwarts anymore!" cried David frantically, as he tightly clutched the blankets he was hiding under. "There's and evil wizard named Voldemort who's going to kill me!"

"You just had a nightmare David…"

"Yes, I had a bunch of them actually, but Voldemort's real! Just read the last page of the history book!"

Byron, as well as Michelle for that matter, had never developed any enthusiasm for David's decision to attend Hogwarts, so this turnabout, whatever prompted it, was welcome news. All the same, David had just woken up, and he sounded a bit unhinged. At very least, he should share whatever was troubling him with Natalie, the only person present with actual wizarding world experience.

* * *

"Voldemort? He was defeated – how long has it been now? – four years ago I believe. And his Death Eaters are all either dead or imprisoned."

"But your history book said that his terrorism has no end in sight!"

"I bought that history book in 1975. The information's just outdated."

With this revelation, David felt tremendously relieved and a little silly, but as usual Byron would not be mollified so easily.

"When we first met you told us that the magic involved in your world was mundane and benign on the whole. But now we learn that within my son's lifetime there's been a peerlessly dark wizard who was on the brink of taking over the world? Pretty important detail to leave out if you ask me."

Natalie winced as she struggled to come up with something to say in response. Byron's tone hadn't been aggressive or contentious, but his facial expression betrayed his anger. She was perhaps the only witch in England he would dare trust, but now that bond of trust had received a devastating blow.

"Looking back," she began at last "it was irresponsible of me to omit telling you about Voldemort and other dark wizards. I had figured that with the war over, dark magic wouldn't be a problem during David's time at Hogwarts. But, you never know when the next powerful dark magician will emerge."

"Perhaps it will be tomorrow," suggested Byron sternly. "How can we send David to this school with such a massive potential risk?"

"With all due respect Mr. Raymond, it's not a greater risk than the one we face from the Soviets in the non-magical world. Voldemort threatened with magic while Khrushchev and Brezhnev threatened with nuclear weapons, but is there ultimately any difference? Voldemort is now gone, and we could see a Cold War breakthrough under Gorbachev, but in both cases the risk will probably always be there. Or better yet, look at our parents' generation! Less than half a century ago Britain was in danger of falling to the Third Reich. Hitler, Grindelwald, Stalin, Voldemort – all different names, but the same essence. Hitler in particular came far closer to world domination than Voldemort ever did. Evil doesn't need magic; it has plenty of non-magical armies and technology to work with. The means don't matter as long as there's an end result of death and destruction. We can fear this reality and live our lives in hiding and seclusion, or we can overcome this fear by trusting in Christ, and be a witness to the world. The choice is ours."

Byron had nothing to say in response. Much as he wished not to admit it, she had made a brilliant argument. "Hmm. Well, pending the emergence of another demon like Voldemort, I suppose it would be irrational to refrain from attending Hogwarts. You and David can begin your shopping trip now." David looked excited as he headed off, Byron noted with some annoyance. Just a few minutes ago he was paralyzed with fear, and now it's suddenly all forgotten? His son could be so capricious!

* * *

"Ah, Miss Peterson, it's been a great many years hasn't it? I remember it like yesterday of course. Ten and a half inches, maple, unicorn tail, nice and supple – superior craftsmanship if I do say so myself."

Natalie could never quite tell if Ollivander intentionally tried to be creepy, or if he was oblivious to how eerie he always managed to seem. "And who is this fine young man you've brought?"

"I'm David Raymond, and I'm going to Hogwarts."

"And you need a wand I dare say? We'll find the perfect one for you."

David was given four different wands, with Ollivander rejecting each right as David touched them. As David grabbed the fifth, he felt a warm, tingling sensation throughout his arm. Shocked, he immediately dropped the wand, letting out a gasp.

"Ah, found your wand I trust Mr. Raymond? Nine inches, oak, phoenix feather, excellent quality really. The first thing you ought to do though is learn how to hold it without letting it slip your hand!"

"Don't mind Mr. Ollivander," advised Natalie as they headed over to Madam Malkin's a minute later. "I promise not all wizards are that unbalanced."

"Could've fooled me," thought David to himself, as they passed yet another group of flamboyantly dressed witches and wizards. This particular group was laughing hysterically as soap bubbles sprayed powerfully from one unamused girl's mouth. Something was _different_ about these people here in Diagon Alley. It felt as if he'd stepped straight into one of those once-upon-a-time storybooks. This off-kilter alley made an excellent setting for fantasy stories, but it had no right to exist in real life. Before David could reflect on the oddity of it all any further, he was being greeted by the owner of the robe shop.

"Any idea what house you'll be in Mr. Raymond?" quizzed Madam Malkin as she took David's measurements.

"Ahhh… a magical one I'd venture," David offered lamely. Madam Malkin chuckled, and disappeared to fetch his robes.

"At Hogwarts, the students are divided into four groups known as 'houses', and these groups live and attend classes together," Natalie helpfully explained. "The four houses are Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Although I'm biased as an alumna, I think Hufflepuff is easily the best. Everyone without exception was kind, friendly, and humble. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw aren't too bad, but the one house you better pray you're not in is Slytherin."

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

Natalie glanced quickly around to see if anyone was in earshot before answering. "Slytherin serves primarily as the house for two types of people: bullying brutes, and inbred pure-blood fanatics, and those groups have a disturbing amount of overlap."

"Pure-blood? What does that mean?"

"It means that all your ancestors were magical as well. Many Slytherins have a perverse fetish for blood purity, and an atrocious bigotry against those with any muggle ancestry. Racism by any other name essentially. Incidentally, with the exception of Sirius Black, every major dark wizard within recent memory has come out of Slytherin."

Natalie would have gone on, but Madam Malkin returned at that moment with David's robes.

* * *

Two days remained until the start of the term. David's father had at last, reluctantly settled down and accepted that Hogwarts was where David was meant to be, but his mother hadn't come to such terms yet. "You're absolutely, positively, 100% sure you want to do this David?"

"You and Dad have asked me that a thousand times Mum! I'm sure Hogwarts is where God wants me!"

"Well, if you're really sure…"

"Is there anything wrong Mum? You've been acting very differently ever since you found out I was magical."

Michelle looked pained. "It's nothing you need to worry about David," she said as lovingly as she could. Then, tearing up a bit, she hugged him. "Remember, I'll always love you no matter what."

"Please tell me what's wrong Mum. Look, I promise I'll be extra careful and safe at Hogwarts."

"I know you will," Michelle said softly, her anguished expression still unchanged. "It's just… it's just that..." She was searching carefully for the right word. "It's so _weighty_ having a wizard in the family."

"What do you mean by weighty?"

"We'll talk about it when you're older."

David gave up. Clearly something burdening her heart deeply, but she obviously wasn't going to tell him any time soon.

"If it upsets you too much, I don't have to go to Hogwarts."

Michelle teared up again as she gazed at her beloved son. "No David, you do want you want to do. You do what God has called you to do. God will take care of you, just as He has taken care of me for the past 28 years."

David tried to figure out a good way to end this increasingly bizarre conversation when suddenly his father announced from the kitchen that dinner was ready, sparing him the trouble.

"Coming dear," replied Michelle, shelving all her weighty thoughts for the time being.

* * *

Never in his life had David felt so nervous as on the morning of Sunday, September 1, 1985. _Here I am,_ he thought, _standing in King's Cross, in front of a dark wall of cast iron. Once I go through, I can't go back. I'm on my own_. The night before, he had looked up a bunch of Bible verses about God-given courage and strength, but at the moment he couldn't remember any. _But they're still there,_ he told himself, _even if I can't recall them now, and scripture doesn't lie. _Turning around, he gave his parents one final 'I love you,' and then closed his eyes and darted through the great barrier.

The metallic Rubicon crossed, David steeled himself and climbed aboard the shockingly red vintage express sitting smartly on the track. _What happened to all that evangelistic eagerness which I had over the summer?_ _I came here to tell these people about Jesus – why do I now wish so strongly to hide from everyone else on this train?_

David walked briskly down the halls of several coaches, darting quick glances inside the cabins. All of them seemed to be filled with groups of highly intimidating teenagers; and worse, they were using wands to cast all sorts of fearful spells – laughing all the while! When he'd agreed to go to Hogwarts way back in July, there had only been Dumbledore, and when he went to Diagon Alley in August, there had been Natalie to keep him safe, but now with hundreds of these foreigners surrounding him and no one familiar to protect him, an acute xenophobia set in. Finally discovering a vacant cabin, David raced inside, and immediately started praying that no one else would come in. Footsteps interrupted his prayer after only a few seconds, and David looked up at the two red-headed boys who would be joining him.

"Do you mind?" the elder of the two asked amiably.

"Of course not" answered David automatically, as inwardly his heart pounded and the rest of his body froze with fear. _Oh God help me! Dear God, please help me!_

The wizard brothers walked in and sat down without introducing themselves, and continued the conversation they had started in the corridor. In spite of his paralyzing fear, David couldn't help but notice how happy the pair seemed as they chatted it up. "The twins promised to send me dungbombs for my birthday in three months," said the elder brother excitedly, "although they'll have to be well cloaked or else Filch will confiscate the package, but if I know Fred and George they'll find a way to do it. You know, if I was in Azkaban, and could choose any two people in the world to help me escape, it would be them. When they decide to be resourceful, they're completely unstoppable."

"I know! Unbreakable vows are pretty advanced magic even for seventh years, let alone seven year olds, but if Dad had walked in on them just five seconds later, Ron would have been their human house elf for life."

"Poor Ron," smirked the elder brother, "I didn't even know there _were_ unbreakable vows when they did that! You're really lucky – you'll actually get to be at Hogwarts with them. I can only imagine what that'll be like!"

"Hogwarts is certainly in for a few surprises when 1989 rolls around," agreed the younger brother. Turning his head a bit, he saw David, who had the look of a man one minute away from a scheduled Dementor's Kiss. "Are you all right there friend?"

"Ahahah…"

"First year?" smiled the elder brother warmly. David nodded. "Muggle parentage too, I reckon." David nodded again. "Don't worry, there's nothing to be afraid of, you'll love Hogwarts, I promise! My name's Bill Weasley, and this is my brother Charlie. What's your name?"

David felt a wave of relief spread over him. _Thank you God, for this kind friend Bill! _"My name is David Raymond."

"It's a pleasure to meet you David. I remember how nervous I felt three years ago when I went to Hogwarts for the first time, and I come from a magical family! You don't have to take my word for it, but I promise you'll feel at home very quickly, and make a lot of friends, especially if you end up in Gryffindor like me and Charlie."

_They're just normal people. Apart from being able to use a magic ward, they're as normal as anyone else I'd ever meet. I can do this! And even if I can't, 'His power is made perfect in my weakness.' _Then David suddenly remembered why he had agreed to come to Hogwarts.

"Do you believe in Jesus?"

Bill and Charlie looked utterly nonplussed. "What?" Charlie asked at last.

"Jesus."

"What's a Jeeza?"

"A Je—wait what?"

"Are they anything like Kneazles?"

Now David was utterly nonplussed. Something had gone terribly wrong here. Horrifically wrong. He felt his heart beating fast again.

"Wait a minute," put in Bill, "weren't Jeezas in the latest issue of the Quibbler?"

"I – I don't know," replied David. _Oh Jesus, _he prayed desperately,_ please help me to be a witness for you!_ "All right, let's try this again: do you believe in Jesus Christ?"

To David's relief, both Bill and Charlie comprehended this time. "Oh, Jesus Christ! Right. Well, I know he was a famous wizard from thousands of years ago, but that's about it," offered Bill.

Here was a thought that had simply never occurred to David. _WIZARD! No… just no! How could…? Hmph, 'Wizard' – the very idea! But then… is this how everyone in the wizarding world thinks about Jesus? Well, if so, I've got my work cut out for me then!_

"Jesus is God in the flesh. He was sent by God the Father to earth, where He lived a perfect life as a man. He was put to death by the Roman Empire, but came back to life three days later. His death provided atonement for the sins of all who believe in Him." David wasn't quite sure what the word atonement meant, but he had heard the term enough in church to know that it was something Christ's death provided.

"This is a religion isn't it?" asked Bill, drawing on some scattered memories, "Christianity, right?"

_Now we're getting somewhere! _"Right! Christianity! So, as Christians, we believe that if you put your complete faith in the finished work of Christ-" But David got no further, for at that moment a long haired wizard about Bill's age approached the compartment.

"There you are Bill! We've been looking everywhere for you. Lew Jordan's got a giant scorpion to show you guys."

"Right Kirley, we'll be along in a second," then, turning to David, Bill said that it was wonderful meeting him. Charlie did the same, and then the Weasleys filed out after Kirley, leaving David with only the English countryside outside his window for company. _Well, I don't think that could've turned out much worse. Did I make the wrong decision to come here?_

The minutes crawled by, but at last, just as the sun slipped out of sight, the train stopped across a lake from a magnificent castle. Stepping out of the coach, he heard a booming voice instructing the "firs' years" to get into a collection of small rowboats. Once he and the first years had crossed the ominous lake, they were met by an old and severe looking woman who wore a tall witch's hat.

"My name is Professor McGonagall. In just a few minutes, we will walk through the Great Hall, and you shall be sorted. When I call you name, please come forward and the Hat will inform you of your house."

_We're assigned houses randomly out of a hat? _thought David._ What a scary system!_

A few minutes later, now inside the Great Hall, David discovered that the real system was in fact much, much scarier. Professor McGonagall placed a giant, decrepit witch's hat on a stool. There it sat for a few seconds. From somewhere a funky beat came, and then, without warning, the Hat burst into rap.

_I'm the Sorting Hat, and you know what's cool?_

_ I'll tell you your house here at this school_

_ Now Hogwarts runs by the rule of four_

_ Four places to be, there ain't no more_

_ Just sit under my rim, I'll read your mind_

_ Nothing's hidden within that I can't find_

_ I'm a Maslow, Jung, and Freud in one_

_ Psychological prowess, second to none_

_ They can't hear my voice, until I shout_

_ The name of yo new house, then the secret's out_

_ All readings are final, so don't bristle at _

_ Ain't nobody gonna question the Sorting Hat!_

_ Gryffindor has the lore of nerve hardcore_

_ And Minerva gives the Lion an extra roar_

_ We're talking the courage to encourage daring_

_ Swearing to always do the right thing, declaring _

_ We're the House of Albus, Godric, and Uric_

_ Everard, Fortescue, Dilys Derwent_

_ Spout-hole Spavin, Artemisia Lufkin_

_ Potter, Black, Pettigrew, and Lupin!_

_ Don't let the 'Puffs bluff, they're plenty tough_

_ They're a catchall House, but they know their stuff_

_ Sprout can tout the clout of her badger crew_

_ They got dignity, loyalty, through and through_

_ A House with more heart don't come to mind_

_ Helga Hufflepuff's bunch, they plenty kind_

_ Underestimate them, you'll pay the price_

_ Cuz 'weak' don't always correlate with 'nice'_

_ Now the Ravenclaws are our cognoscenti_

_ Cleverness, acumen, perception aplenty_

_ I don't pick no one thick for ol' Flitwick_

_ They got minds slick and quick, it's just their shtick_

_ And remember men, though they're literati_

_ Almost every 'Claw girl is a major hottie_

_ These Eagles here love themselves their books_

_ That's Rowena's crowd, with the wit and looks_

_ If a hemocentric worldview's your cup of tea_

_ Then it's Salazar's tribe where you wanna be_

_ It's for the patrician, with the predisposition_

_ For cognition and ambition like a politician_

_ Slytherin might not be the most philanthropic_

_ But Snape & co - they ain't never myopic!_

_ The serpent's house got the blood and drive_

_ To survive and connive, not to mention thrive_

_ And with that I end my house descriptions_

_ Don't freak, they're only imperfect depictions_

_ Time for me to sort each wizard and witch_

_ Not a moment to waste, so let's do it- _

"Thank you, Sorting Hat!" intoned McGonagall loudly and sharply, interrupting before the Hat could say the rap's final word. _Next year, that Hat will have to run its song by me first! _Professor McGonagall unrolled a scroll and began calling names. "Abbott, Herman…"


	3. Chapter 3

"Raymond, David" called the clear dispassionate voice of McGonagall.

So far, no one had looked disappointed by the Hat's choice of house, but that didn't make David any less terrified. He quickly shuffled up to the stool, and shuddered a bit as the Hat touched his head.

"_Wonderful, I always enjoy a true challenge! Not really any obvious choice here." _The Hat considered for a few seconds. "_Although I must say, you certainly have the _heritage _to be in Slytherin…"_

For probably the dozenth time that day, David's heart rate shot through the roof. _Please God! Don't let the Hat put me there!_

The Hat got the message, and backpedalled as fast as it could. "_Ah… maybe Slytherin isn't really the proper place for you though. No matter, we have three other options. Now let's see - your repulsion toward Slytherin speaks well for Gryffindor, and you have a lot more bravery than you think. Now Hufflepuff is also rather plausible, but you're far more individualistic than the badger norm. And Ravenclaw?" _Again the Hat considered._ "Actually, that might just be the most realistic fit. It's a close call with Gryffindor, but ultimately, I think you'll do best in RAVENCLAW!"_

Ravenclaw! It wasn't Natalie's Hufflepuff, or Bill and Charlie's Gryffindor, but it wasn't Slytherin either. And that was good. But Ravenclaw didn't sound like him at all. The Hat was right that he didn't easily fit anywhere, but how was the 'intellectual' house the closest by any standard? Perhaps the Hat had made a mistake. Ah well, once again, it wasn't Slytherin, and the people at the Ravenclaw table looked nice enough. With any luck, he'd finish the day without any more heart attacks.

When the sorting concluded, Albus Dumbledore slowly stood up to address the school. "As Headmaster of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I would like to extend a warm welcome to the class of 1992. May your time here be filled with adventure, discovery, and friendship! I would also like to take this opportunity to welcome our new Defense Against Dark Arts professor, Dr. Carl Vandermeer. Dr. Vander has spent many years doing groundbreaking research in the realm of magical theory under the guidance of none other than Adalbert Waffling, and we are very pleased to have him for the year."

Dr. Vandermeer very briefly stood up from his seat at the front table. Wearing a wrinkled shirt and tie amongst a sea of robes, he looked profoundly out of place, and rather dweebish.

"I am also pleased to announce that Argus Filch, our caretaker, has, after a lot of deep soul searching, decided to allow magic in the corridors, and sojourns into the Forbidden Forest provided appropriate precautions are taken."

From the excited murmur that swept through the Great Hall, David gathered that this was an extraordinary bit of news.

"Just kidding! The Forest is off limits, and corridor magic is prohibited as always."

Dumbledore's joke wasn't quite as warmly received as he had hoped. He decided it was a good time to conclude announcements and let the meal begin.

"I just have a few more words to say, and here they are: Hippopotamus! Republican! Soup! Alakazam!"

Dumbledore sat down, and a few seconds later, massive amounts of food instantaneously appeared on every table. Before David or any of his other fellow first year Eagles could take a bite, a frantic looking teenager approached their end of the table.

"Don't eat it! It was prepared by _slave labor! _Say 'no' to elf exploitation! Don't be a cog in the…"

"Shut up and let them eat, Wilbert" snapped another teenager with evident annoyance.

"We don't need another generation of Little Eichmanns. The time for elfish justice…"

"The first years really don't need this."

"And the elves don't need exploitation…"

This went on for about five more minutes before Wilbert was finally reluctantly coaxed into letting the first years alone. David, who had no idea what to make of the performance he had just witnessed, ate only the bare minimum necessary to sustain him until tomorrow morning. He maintained a studied silence, even as some of the other first years began acquainting themselves. Yet another panic attack came when several ghosts showed up to dinner. _What are they? Are they demons? Actual souls? And if they are actual souls, how does God judge them?_

_

* * *

_

It was a great relief when the dinner finally ended. The fifth year who had shouted down Wilbert introduced himself as Ashish Patil, the male prefect. He corralled the first year boys and led them out of the Great Hall. After a convoluted journey through the labyrinthine passageways of the castle, the group at last arrived at a simple wooden door with a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle.

"If a Flobberworm is locked in a Gringotts vault with a cursed Galleon that will kill the worm if touched, is the worm both dead and alive so long as the vault remains locked?" asked the knocker.

"Who cares? It's a freaking Flobberworm!" responded Ashish with evident exasperation.

"I'll take it," replied the knocker grudgingly, "but only because it's your first day back."

The door swung open, and David walked into a large, lavishly furnished central room with many hallways which presumably led to dormitories. Most entering Ravenclaws went on to bed, but Ashish asked the first year boys to stay for a short introduction and orientation session.

"Usually prefects will play some incredibly asinine game where you have to say your favorite animal or something lame like that, and remember what everyone else says in the group says. Fortunately for you, I despise that sort of inane rubbish. Just tell us your name, and whatever else you want to."

The first up was a well bred looking boy. His face, to David's mind at least, seemed to telegraph a subtle but ominous ruthlessness. "Roland Parker. I'm from Liverpool, and my original goal was to monopolize the docking industry as much as possible. I'll probably make even bigger plans now that I've learned I'm magical."

_He seems more like a Slytherin! _thought David, instantly judging his new housemate. _But he sounds like a muggleborn, so I suppose that would have weighed against him being sorted there. _Then at once, something else about David's own sorting didn't make any sense. _Wait a second – I'm muggleborn too! Why the heck did the Hat say I had the "heritage" to be in Slytherin? My distant ancestors must have all been Slytherins! _This was, for David, a most unpleasant notion. He briefly shuddered at the thought of Slytherin blood running through his veins, before he was distracted by the next boy.

He was intense, enthusiastic, and sported a wild pompadour. "I'm Nikolai Dubrovich!" Surprisingly, he spoke without any trace of accent. "I was born in Belarus in 1974, and my father was able to silently arrange for immigration to Britain a year later. I'm hoping to make groundbreaking discoveries in the field of transfiguration during my time here!" Nikolai seemed the sort of person who could ease tension, and brighten a bad day just by his presence.

Next up was a lanky boy, who unlike Roland and Nikolai, was quite unreadable to David before he spoke, and remained so afterward as well. "I'm Adam Sokal, and you know, I was just given a wacky letter, and told to show up here, and I did, and so far, everything here has been rather peculiar, and right now, that's all I've really got to say." His voice was deadpan, with a slight hint of sarcasm lurking in the background.

"My name's Kenny Anderson, and as you can probably guess from my accent, I grew up in America, and only moved here two years ago. I'm a huge sports fan, and my favorite team is the Cleveland Channellers – they're a Quodpot club. I'm really excited for the first Quidditch match this year!" Like Nikolai, Kenny seemed very earnest and nice. Definitely try to get to know those two, thought David.

Slowly, all eyes turned to David. It was his turn. _All right God, please help me do this_. "Hi everyone! I'm David Raymond. Like some of you, I had no idea about magic until I got my letter from Dumbledore." He became quite nervous, and his voice grew weaker as he said the second part of his introduction. "I'm a Christian, and my faith is what's most important to my life. I want to glorify God here at Hogwarts."

"Wow," said Roland mockingly, "I thought they put all the superstitious people in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. How'd you get into Ravenclaw?" David went red, and couldn't think of anything to say in back. But one thing he now knew: he _hated_ Roland.

"That's really uncalled for Roland" said Ashish irritatedly. "Ravenclaws will disagree more than any other house here, but they also show basic respect for their housemates." Turning to address the rest of the group, Ashish now began his general overview of Hogwarts. He spoke very quickly, eager to get through what he obviously considered to be a lot of tedium. "Once again, my name is Ashish Patil, and I'm the male Ravenclaw prefect for the year. I'm responsible for ensuring good behavior, and I'm empowered to dock points, and report foul play to the head of house. To be honest, I really don't like doing that, so please, please, please just behave guys. I don't want to make your life painful, so please don't make my life painful. Oh, and by the way, don't worry about trailing in the house point competition. Ever since Professor Snape arrived in my first year, he's pretty much rigged the process so that Slytherin always wins. Gryffindor won last year, but it took a miracle."

"What happened!" asked Nikolai.

"Well, I don't know all the details - it happened right at the end of the year when we were all obsessing over exams. All I can say is that Snape is never making a 300 point bet with a Gryffindor again, no matter how much of a sure bet it seems."

"So this Snape fellow," inquired Roland, "what's his problem?"

Ashish considered for a few moments. "I'm not going to say anything. But if you really want to know about the guy, you can ask some of the sixth and seventh years. Snape graduated just under a decade ago, and there's all sorts of gossip going around about his days as a student. But enough about Snape – breakfast is at 8, lunch is at noon, and dinner is at 6, and those are the only times to get food. It's really inconvenient, and everyone hates it, but that's the way it is. If you ever raid the kitchen, try to make sure I don't hear about it.

"To get to the Great Hall from here, exit through the door. You take the left, then the right, and keep on straight until you reach a staircase. After descending that one, you'll find four more staircases. Take the one second from the left, and continue on down that corridor until you get to the portrait of the cranky witch in the green dress. Then, you need to do a special knock on the door to the right – I could teach you it now, but you're probably better off watching someone do it live. Once you're through that doorway, ascend the central staircase – you might have a 9 minute wait since it's one of those effing mobile ones. After that, take two lefts and a right, and then follow the red carpet and you'll eventually be there. To get back to the common room, just do the same thing in reverse. Yes, if the architect who designed this castle were still alive, I would be first in line to murder him, but that's the way it is. As for getting to your various classes – all I can say is God help you. Usually the Grey Lady is available for the first week to assist first years, but you should probably memorize the routes as quickly as possible.

Ashish kept up his rapid fire recitation, jumping instantaneously from one point to the next. "If Peeves shows up, keep saying the words "Bloody Baron" and eventually he'll go away. If you see that infernal cat Mrs. Norris, I'd advise you to just run away fast. Use magic against Slytherins only as the very, very, very last resort. Snape _will_ make you regret it. And… I think that about does it for the essential knowledge you'll need. Here's a copy of your weekly schedule. And please, try to get some decent sleep tonight – you'll need it."

David liked Ashish. So far he seemed to always be irritated about something, but it was oddly endearing for reasons David couldn't quite verbalize. He now read his weekly schedule carefully, trying to figure out how much spiritual difficulty each class would give him. _Astronomy – nothing wrong with that at all! Herbology – it's just plant life that God created isn't it? Potions – again, just chemicals that God created. History of magic – not only all right, but should be quite interesting_ (David was fated to be disappointed on that particular count).

The remaining four classes looked highly problematic. Flying would doubtless involve enchanted broomsticks, while charms and transfiguration seemed to be principally wandwork. Worst of all was defense against dark arts. _I know the one true defense against dark arts – it's Jesus! Who knows what sort of lies they'll try to teach me in that class?_

After he had studied the schedule to his satisfaction, David looked up to see Roland talking with Nikolai, and Kenny chatting with Adam (who preferred to be called Sokal as David would eventually find out). He was the odd man out. With no one to talk to, he gazed around the room. On one wall, several very long rolled up parchment scrolls were mounted. One abruptly opened, accompanied by a small burst of light. With nothing better to do, David walked over to read the newly displayed message.

JOSEPH McDOWELL'S CORNER - Making sense of Hogwarts nuttiness so you don't have to!

Dumbledore's favoritism returns (Posted 1 September 1985 by josephmcdowell)

When Dumbledore chose in 1984, for the first time in 6 years, not one, but two, non-Gryffindor head prefects, I expressed cautious optimism that his well-documented favoritism in selecting Head Boy and Girl might at last be on the wane. But alas, once again our dear old headmaster has reverted to form and chosen two Gryffindors for head prefects in my final year at Hogwarts, one of which doesn't even remotely deserve the honor. For the benefit of latecomers, here are the raw statistics once again: out of Dumbledore's 60 selections since he became headmaster, the breakdown is 36 Gryffs, 11 Claws, 10 Puffs, and 3 Slyths. Gryffs, of course, aren't exactly known for their humility, and I've actually heard some argue that every one of those 30-odd honorees was deserving. If you honestly believe that, I've got a Deathly Hallow I'd like to sell you.

This year's Head Girl is Celeste Hopkirk. While an exemplary student by any standard, she was only 4th in this year's female class ranking, and in no previous year has she ever ranked first. On the extracurricular front, she's an above average chaser, but that's about it. Meanwhile, over here in Ravenclaw, Isannah has ranked either 1st or 2nd each year, captains the Quidditch team, assists Flitwick in directing the Hogwarts Chorus, _and has been published in the _Journal of Applied Transfiguration _twice! _Nothing against Celeste, but Isannah obviously deserved to win this year, but ultimately did not solely because she had an 'R' rather than a 'G' after her name.

On rare occasions, Dumbledore can't be bothered to choose students who are exemplary even by the loosest standards. The award's undisputed all time nadir came in 1977, when Dumbledore stunned everyone by picking James Potter for Head Boy. Except for his 6th year, Potter apparently was sub-par academically, and only really distinguished himself as a relatively brilliant Quidditch player. Not only that, but reportedly, he was a thoroughgoing bully for the bulk of his first five years as well. Today, most of this has been dropped down the memory hole, Potter is remembered as some great hero because he donated 23 chromosomes to the Boy Who Lived, and Dumbledore proudly cites Potter as one of his best selections. But Halloween '81 doesn't make his selection four years earlier any less indefensible.

Exit questions: if Isannah had discovered a 13th use for Dragon's blood, would _that_ have been sufficient to push her past Celeste? Is it at all worrying that the answer to the first question isn't obvious?

David finished reading, and scrolled the parchment down a bit. There was another post, this one dated 3 June 1985, and another one before that dated 22 May. And on and on the entries would presumably go were he to keep scrolling. _This is actually a pretty neat magical device. I wish non-wizards had something like it. _A large clock in the common room struck 10, and David decided he better get to sleep. He had a big day tomorrow.


End file.
